


An Evening with the Family

by NoisyNoiverns



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Children, Family Fluff, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Old Married Couple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 06:56:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12953787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoisyNoiverns/pseuds/NoisyNoiverns
Summary: A councilor is generally allowed any day off that they please, within reason. Ierian Sparatus saves his for monthly mental health days and for very special, important occasions. Most important of all is his wife's birthday.





	An Evening with the Family

Ierian hummed low in his chest as he stirred the cornin-tongue soup simmering on the stove. A few pieces of frayed tendon floated at the top, rolling with the bubbling broth. Occasionally, the spoon found one of the vertebrae that he’d included for extra substance, and it made a pleasant scraping sound as it bumped against the side of the pot. The broth was still murky and blue with the animal's blood, but by the time it was done, it would have mixed and diluted itself to a beautiful translucent green.

Teia was going to _love_ it. He just had to make sure it lasted long enough for her to get a bowl.

"Hey, Dad," said his middle child, the worst offender on the list of people who liked to "sample" food before it was ready, "can I taste-test?"

Ierian glanced over his shoulder. Originally the most serious of the brood, Verres had grown more relaxed and easygoing as he aged, and now grinned mischievously at his father from between bags of groceries, his hands folded neatly in front of him as he leaned on the center island. "It's mostly done now, right? Time to get it how Mom likes it?"

Ierian flicked a mandible and went back to stirring the soup. "So you can take unreasonably large mouthfuls and not leave enough for everyone else? I think not."

"What? Dad, c'mon. I wouldn't do _that."_

Ierian looked at him over his shoulder again, one mandible lowered, and Verres amended, "Well, I wouldn't do it on Mom's _birthday._ That's just rude."

"Oh, so we _did_ teach you manners. That's a relief, you had us worried for a minute. Note that by 'minute,' I mean 'every day since you hit puberty.'"

Verres whined, subvocals trilling _complaint-indignation-teasing._ "Dad, come on, I'm not _that_ bad."

"No, you're not," Ierian hummed. "But I'm your father, so it's my solemn duty to complain about what a disappointment you are. Which would you prefer, the grandchildren lecture, or the 'your mother and I had such high hopes for you' lecture?"

Verres clicked his mandibles. "The first one is null and void, because Aree and Callie already gave you grandkids. The second one is just dumb. I'm a first lieutenant already, and I'm only thirty-three, so..."

"And we're very proud of you," Ierian purred. "But that doesn't mean you couldn't be a captain already. Why aren't you a captain already? Better, why aren't you a _general_ already?"

The whine was louder this time. _"Dad!"_

"Or you could be a Spectre. Do you know how many current Spectres made it before your age?"

"Yeah, like, _seven._ And most of them were 314 vets, so they're unique circumstances."

Ierian chuckled to himself. "Fair enough. _My_ mother still asks when I'm going to medical school."

"Yeah, well, Parmat's weird like that." There was a faint scrape, then footsteps and clacking toe-claws headed to the fridge. The fridge opened, and Verres added, "Speaking of, are they coming over for dinner, too?"

"They couldn't make it, I'm afraid. Your grandfather got called to Altakiril for a case, and Mother didn't want to leave him out. He adores your mari, you know. They'll be coming by next weekend, instead. Don't spoil your dinner."

"I'm not, Dad, _spirits._ Just getting a drink. You want anything?"

Ierian was opening his mouth to answer when the apartment VI cheerfully announced there was someone at the door. He paused, startled, then shook his head. "I want you to get the door, please."

"Sure." Verres tossed a bottle of some purple sports drink to himself and shut the fridge, then trotted out of the kitchen.

Ierian listened as he stirred the soup, idly lifting the spoon to take a sip. Hm. Needed more escori.

While he added herbs, the door chimed, and Verres jovially barked, "Whadda _you_ want?"

"Uncle Verres!" was the answering shriek, followed by the skitter of small talons against exposed plate and the boom of Verres's laugh.

Ierian smiled to himself as the greetings faded to a more conversational murmur he couldn't quite make out. That would be his eldest son and his lot, then – the only other grandchild, his youngest's daughter, was barely a year old, and couldn't pronounce Verres's name yet.

The murmuring died off, and footsteps muffled by thick carpet approached the kitchen. "Dad, I got the door, but these vagabonds just came stomping in," Verres called out. "Can I rough 'em up a bit?"

"Just _try_ it," Areus responded, and Ierian turned in time to see his sons round the corner of the counter. Despite being the eldest, Areus was smaller than Verres, both shorter and leaner. Where Verres was built like a tank, Areus had his mother's more graceful build. Unfortunately, he had _not_ gotten her soft-hearted temperament. "I'll kick your ass right out the living room window."

Ierian shook his head and set the spoon down. "Boys, settle down," he scolded as he turned to face them, subvocals ringing _reproachful-amused-affectionate._ "You know the rules, no fighting indoors."

"Aw, c'mon, Dad," Verres said, cocking one mandible up in a lopsided grin. "I'd only beat him up a _little."_

"I'm sure," he hummed, moving to give Areus a tight hug. "It's good to see you," he added with a purr.

Areus trilled and squeezed him tight, nuzzling the side of his head. "Hi, Dad. How've you been?"

"Tired, irritated, counting the days until Udina's retirement, the usual." He pulled back, now holding Areus by the forearms to appraise him. If he wasn't mistaken, the faint spots on his nasal plates and keelbone that were just barely beginning to show his son's age had gotten a smidgen wider since last he'd seen him. His eyes were ever-so-slightly sunken, but still sparked with mischief, and his perfect military posture had the barest hint of a droop. "You haven't been skipping sleep again, have you?" he asked, subvocals rumbling reproach. "Don't lie, I'm sure Sivia will tell me."

Areus's mandibles flared quickly. "Dad, I'm _fine,"_ he insisted. "I just have nestlings, you know how it is."

"Unfortunately, I do." He quirked up one mandible, dropping Areus's arms. "My advice _would_ be to stop at one, but you've already gone and ruined that much."

Verres barked a laugh and clapped. "Score one for team Verres. No kids, no lost sleep."

"Dad, Verres is bullying me," Areus deadpanned. Then he shook his head and moved to drift around the center island, sniffing. "Sivia's helping the kids get settled, Casbius was fussy the whole trip. Is that tongue soup?"

"Cornin tongue, specifically," Ierian said, watching as Areus investigated. "With cervical vertebrae for substance. Herb-roasted eggs for an appetizer, cornin-tongue soup for the main course, and dozok for dessert. All your mother's favorites."

"Spirits, Dad. Have you been in the kitchen _all day?"_

"Yes, and you wouldn't _believe_ how difficult it's been to keep your mother out of the apartment while I do it," he groused. "I ended up recruiting your sister to take her out for a birthday shopping spree."

"So _that's_ where Cal is," Areus mused. "What about Carrinia and Novi?"

“They went home to get their present for Teia, and Novi’s favorite toy. I also asked them to drop by the store on their way back, and get a few extra herbs for the soup.”

Areus gave him a critical look, lowering one mandible. "Dad, you should go sit down. I know you like to fuss over Mom, but if you've been doing this _all day..."_

"A valiant effort," Verres grumbled, "but ultimately hopeless. I've been trying to get him to take a break since this morning. You should've been here for trying to talk him into _getting lunch."_

Ierian glanced between his sons, lowering his mandibles and raising his head. "I'm _fine,"_ he told them, putting as much authority in his subvocals as possible. "It's not my fault your mother's favorite meal takes all day to cook."

"But it _is_ your fault when you push yourself too hard to get it all perfect," Verres countered. "Mom's seventy-six, Dad, I think she knows you love her by now."

"We can take care of dinner," Areus added. "Go spend time with your grandkids. I know Casbius will appreciate it."

Ierian stiffened his neck and pulled his mandibles in tight to his face, meeting his son's eyes. Areus flinched, but didn't back down, subvocals roiling a confusing mix of _defiant-concerned-apprehensive._ Beyond him, Verres tensed, and his subvocals shrieked an alarm.

Ierian listened and glowered for a moment, then, reluctantly, slowly, relaxed. Areus didn't want to fight him, and he didn't particularly care to fight Areus. It wasn't worth it. "I suppose you have a point," he sighed. "Both of you."

His sons visibly relaxed, and traded relieved looks before nodding to him and bowing slightly. "Don't worry, Dad, I remember everything you've already done," Verres said, raising one hand and putting the other at his keel. "We can finish dinner without you."

"And we won't eat anything," Areus added, quirking his mandibles up.

Ierian harrumphed and turned to leave, shaking his head. "I miss when you were small and did as you were told," he groused.

"No, he doesn't," Ierian heard Verres telling Areus as he left the kitchen. "That was when _Callie_ was a baby, too."

Out in the main room, Areus's mate was trying to juggle children: the younger grandson, Kaevus, dozed in her arms as she tried to get his shoes off without waking him, and the elder, Casbius, sat sullenly at her feet, scowling fiercely with his arms crossed under his keel. As Ierian approached, Casbius looked up, then leapt to his feet. "Grandpa!"

Ierian's mandibles lifted so easily he barely noticed it. That had been happening more and more since becoming a father, he'd noticed, and then more once he was a _grand_ father. He went down on one knee and spread his arms just in time for Casbius to barrel into him, then pulled him into a tight hug. “Oh, _finally,_ you’re here!” he enthused, rumbling a _welcoming-loving_ subvocal and nuzzling the top of his grandson’s head. “Can you believe all I’ve had for company today is your uncle Verres?”

Casbius squealed and nuzzled him enthusiastically. Looking at Casbius was always strange for Ierian, for the first few moments at least; he was the spitting image of Ierian himself as he’d been at his age, dark brown plates and stumpy talons. His eyes were his mother’s amber, rather than Ierian’s teal, but the rest was almost perfect. Of course, that only made it almost surreal that Casbius was already taking after his father’s tall, willowy frame. He was only six, so who knew what puberty would have in store for him, but the point stood.

Ierian gave him an affectionate squeeze. “Spirits, you just get bigger every time I see you,” he purred, moving his chin to tuck Casbius’s head underneath his jaw. “You’re going to be a great hunter in no time.”

Casbius trilled happily. “Mama said she’s gonna teach me to shoot her gun for my birthday next year!” he boasted, wrapping his little arms around Ierian’s neck and hopping slightly to signal he wanted to be picked up.

“Did she, now?” he asked, obligingly getting to his feet and hauling Casbius up with him. He let the boy get settled against his cowl and on his hip, then tapped him under the chin. “Now, what’s this I hear about you being difficult?”

Casbius’s face fell, and he shrunk back as much as he could in Ierian’s hold, turning his head to bare his neck in submission. Before he could speak, however, his mother cleared her throat, and Ierian turned his head to see her finally setting Kaevus’s gear down on the chair next to the entryway and wandering over. “He was cranky because he had to get up early to catch the shuttle, and then he couldn’t get back to sleep once we’d boarded,” she told him, rearranging Kaevus in her arms.

Casbius whined softly and mumbled, “The engines were noisy.”

Sivia nodded with a sigh. “We tried to muffle the noise for him, but nothing worked. Kaevus had trouble, too, but he passed out maybe half an hour before docking, and hasn’t stirred since. _This_ one, on the other hand–” She reached over with her free hand to gently smack the back of Casbius’s head. “—didn’t sleep for a second, and was unhappy the whole trip. So he will be going _straight_ to bed after dinner, got it, Cassie?”

He trilled and ducked his head obediently. “Yes, Mama.”

Sivia smiled and scratched behind his mandibles, drawing a pleased chirp out of him. _“There’s_ my good boy, I _knew_ he was around here somewhere,” she cooed. She leaned down, touched her nasal plates to his, and nuzzled him briefly, adding in a stage whisper, “I’m going to go put your brother down somewhere quiet. Why don’t you tell Grandpa what you’ve been doing in school?”

Ierian lifted one mandible as Casbius agreed enthusiastically. “The guest room is already set up for you,” he told her as she straightened up. “Areus will be occupied in the kitchen for a while longer, I’m afraid, but there’s drinks in the refrigerator if you want anything.”

“Thanks.” She fluttered her mandibles and turned to watch Casbius as he rubbed his face against her hand. “Any idea when Iumat will be back?”

He shook his head and adjusted his grip on Casbius. “I’m afraid not. Calvetorin said she’d send word when they started heading for home.”

She _hrmm_ ed and gave Casbius a gentle push back against Ierian’s cowl. “Well, I guess Kaevus’s nap will be however long he needs it to be, then. I’ll go put him down, then check in on the Bonehead Brothers, see if they need any help.”

He nodded and rumbled his thanks. He watched her head off, then turned his attention back to Casbius, who had gone back to leaning against his cowl in his mother’s absence. “So,” he said, wandering off towards his favorite spot on the couch, “what’s this big secret about school?”


End file.
